


A view goodbye

by tiniinbookland



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demon, Fantasy, Gen, Heaven & Hell, No Romance, Original Fiction, Short Story, angel - Freeform, falling, i guess, kinda mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiniinbookland/pseuds/tiniinbookland





	A view goodbye

Sitting on the edge of the cliff above the stadium didn't feel like being free, even though this place was likely to be the best to feel like flying again.

It was a wide view over the endless depth of the sandstone arena, filled to the brim with roaring people just waiting for the show to begin. The thought that they were going to be the main attraction was shuddering. One might think that in these modern times, it was almost too likely to fall, but the occasion got more rare as time and technology on earth went on. Considering that, a fallen one was an unusual sight and the festivities were looked forward to.

They looked away. The space around the cliff was empty, a rocky landscape with geysers spitting sulphur smog and no sky to see. Obviously. One was too deep under the surface to see any sky. Back up, they were too high to see the ground but that was long ago.

Their legs dangled above the dusty globe of glass that was above the stadium to avoid people from escaping. Not that they had anywhere to escape if they wanted to. Keeping the viewers' attention was just more possible when the suspects weren't buggering off in the middle of it.

The air was too foggy. Thick clouds of sulphur wavered through the air, blocking any chance of a clear view. It reminded them a bit of wearing a pair of dusty glasses in a sunlit room. They chuckled bitterly. Any pair of dusty glasses would be better than this prison of stone and poisonous air.

Technically the place wasn't that bad. One couldn't make wrong steps anymore, at least none more fatal than pissing off someone else. It was just way too cramped and barely anyone ever got used to the high stone walls and narrow caves. Living with the fog and heat seemed more bearable than living with the space problem.

Feet still dangling high above, they stared at the ceiling. Even after a month here, they were still not used to looking up and having something blocking the unlimited view into the black void of the universe. Maybe they could miracle some paint and look for a small space to paint it on. Definitely not the same though. Just a very cheap copy of home.

They shuddered at another itch in their wings. Another feather turned black. One more and it was time.

People in the stadium were getting impatient but they wouldn't be called in unless it was only one fleck of white left. The last would be celebrated. At least everyone else would celebrate. They would just hope to be alone again. Or even better, not here at all because home was so, so much better.

Not their original home of course. They left that one many moons before and got rewarded with a soft pair of wings and the most fantastic view one could imagine. But no one told them to not ask questions. Questions prompted falling, falling prompted existing here. Nothing beautiful existed here. The longer one was here, the less they looked like they did up there. Or on earth. Ugly got uglier, pretty got ugly, soft skin dried up and everything white turned a muddy colour from the dust, dirt and sulphur. Apart from white wings. Those just turned black, feather by feather. In one month. But this month seemed endless. A good preparation for the eternity that was waiting for everyone down here.

Only a few minutes. The anxious feeling in their bones grew; the air was sizzling with anticipation from the others; steps were coming closer. Another itch. One left. They picked them up, dragging them down as they looked at the cliff one last time. The last view down on something. From now on, it was only looking up.

The high door creaked open, the roaring sound of the masses got louder, a deafening sound, full of blood thirst and spite. It fit the iron taste of the air.

Now they were moving forward alone, the others having let them go before closing the gate again. People were screaming, aching to see the last itch, the last piece of transformation. The last left from above.

They sunk to their knees, a scream escaping their throat as the last feather burned to black, taking the last piece of light and making them what the fall deemed. A demon, forever.


End file.
